dissidiacalamitasinfinitafandomcom-20200215-history
Story:Kings of Strife/Part 50
Chapter Fifty Leader Rin ordered Moritaka Posmos to shoot down the first Inusian airship he saw in the Shorican airspace, and his soldier did not hesitate. They did not have the time to investigate the ship as it fell; the Corps continued driving, all caravanned in a single truck, racing back towards Shorekeep. Rin took it as a dismal sign, but not one to be worried about. The next time he saw an Inusian airship above him, the sky was darkened by its presence, along with the fleet that accompanied it. “We’re too late…” Allen Trius sighed and wiped at his face with his hands. Every Corps member looked up to the veritable fleet of Inusian airships headed towards the city of Shorekeep, which seemed to stand in stark defiance of its upcoming conquerors. All Corps members looked up except for Moritaka Posmos, who sat on the roof of the buggy, nonchalantly cradling his rocket launcher. “On your word, Leader Rin,” Posmos casually called down to the open windows of the Corps’ transportation, “and I will fire.” Behind him sat Dolfh Rveld in the bed of the truck, cradling his own rocket launcher with more anxiety and hesitation than his peer. “No, Posmos. To attack one of them is to bring the wrath of all of them down on us. We can’t attack.” Rin kept his eyes forward, focusing on the road and trying not to look up at the skies. He drove the truck that the Corps rode in, and he continued to navigate it forward as quickly as he could. A snow-covered hill stood in front of the truck, and a few miles beyond the hill stood the tantalizing portrait of Shorekeep. “They’ll lay siege to the city, sir,” added J. Horn. He sat behind Rin, and as he spoke he poked his head between Rin’s shoulder and those of Alma Venu, who sat in the front passenger seat. “We won’t make it in time, no matter how you look at it.” “I know,” Rin growled, “but we will still fight. And besides, Wensteinvy and Omas are there. They won’t sit around and let the city be taken.” “If they aren’t busy having an orgy with that horn-dog Baron Arensten, at least.” Shinten Asuko, one of the three soldiers in the backseat of the truck, sat back in his seat and sighed. “Nah, Omas likes girls, right? So I guess Baron Arensten would just watch…?” Despite the situation, Horn couldn’t help but snicker and go along with Asuko’s joke; the two were best friends. After Rin gave the two a look in the rearview mirror and Venu turned back to give the two a withering glare – despite the fact that her eyes were covered – the two silenced their laughter. “I don’t think they’ll siege the city just yet,” Venu stated. “There are only five airships, and assuming there is a nearby ground force of the SSR main force, they will simply invade.” “That sounds about right,” Rin said with a nod, “and you’re right; it is the most likely option. There is only a fraction of Vainia’s infantry still in the city, and without the Queen there to motivate them, they likely won’t fight to the death against an immensely superior force.” “But the castle won’t fall. Omas and Wensteinvy won’t give it up. Right, Leader Rin?” Trius, with his long hair pulled back into a bun, looked up to his square-faced superior with sureness. Rin had no answer for him. ‘I know my operatives won’t give up,’ he considered, ‘but there are only two of them, and the castle’s defenses are only so strong. And my sons aren’t in it…’ “If they seize the throne room, it’s over,” Horn added. “The city will be officially theirs, and we won’t be able to take the castle back. We’d lose the city.” Leader Rin grit his teeth and frowned, but Moritaka was the next one to speak. His voice drifted downwards, calmly and without concern at all, as if he had absolute confidence in the “elite” team beneath him. “The others know that as well. They won’t let the castle fall easily, so we just have to infiltrate and defend it.” His shrug was almost audible. The interior of the truck sat in silence at how simple he described a monumental task – and how easy it seemed in their hearts now that it had been spoken into existence. Rin nodded, reluctantly. “Yes, Posmos is also correct. We will hold the castle.” “Wait,” Trius probed, his defined eyebrows knitted together in thought. “He said infiltrate. Why do we have to sneak into our own castle?” Finally, the truck overcame one of the tallest hills overlooking Shorekeep. The country around the citadel on the coast was hilly, until one came within a few miles of the city itself; at that point, the ground naturally flattened and lowered, as if the city sat at the bottom of a bowl and behind it rested the ocean, bordered by cliffs and boundless, snow-covered land. Directly in front of the city, almost at the border of its limits, a massive group of men in various colors of cloaks and armor stood encamped, ready to rush into the city at any moment. In front of the army stood a much smaller force in uniform tan, standing behind a hastily constructed tall wall of black seastone. It was clear that the two forces had been in stalemate for a good amount of time, perhaps a few hours, but the situation was tenuous; above both groups, hovering and flying around in threatening circles, were the five Inusian airships. The Shorican forces would be destroyed in less than an hour of combat, without a doubt. It was clear now that the Corps would indeed have to infiltrate their own Seastone Castle, for the way there would be paved by SSR and Inusian forces. Tlerius Rin said nothing to Trius, nor was the truck populated by any more conversation once every passenger noticed the situation around their shared home. They sat in stunned, prepared silence, weapons held tightly to their bodies, and steeled themselves for war. ***** She woke slowly and groggily, as if pushing herself up from within the ocean with arms that lacked hands. When she opened her eyes, swallowing deeply, she looked around and wondered for a moment if she was back at home. It did not take long for her to remember that she had no home, not anymore. The Knight’s woman had fallen asleep on her feet for but a moment, she assumed, because the heavy cold gun was still in her hand and the men were still talking inside the door she stood outside. She involuntarily shook with fear, realizing that if the Knight had noticed her falling asleep, he would have hurt her. ‘Pain. He is pain. We are pain.’ She knew how to shoot despite never holding a weapon in her hand before, and she knew how to stand just so with her chest extended outward, and she knew how to disarm and crush a man’s arms before he could pull a trigger at her. That was because of the Knight, she knew. ‘He blinds me, and then I see.’ She had seen men of all sorts of colors walk into the conference room she guarded. Tall men, large men, men with broad chests and bird-like ones, men with hair on their arms and men without hair on their head. At least six men had entered the large room, all of them with personal guards in black suits, and she was the only one appointed to stand outside and guard them all. Every one of the men looked her over, she had seen, with hungry eyes not unlike those the Knight looked her over with constantly. ‘They cannot see who I really am. Pain. War. Peace.’ The Knight had told her that people would stare at her, lust for her, and perhaps even touch her, but she was forbidden to respond favorably to any of their advances. She was used to being looked at by men – Rosaria always had pretty, creamy dark skin, and the way her long hair cascaded over her slim frame made her very popular in the school she used to go to. Neither her brother nor her father had ever let her around any boys, but she had gone through her own innocent adolescent experiments, as most people did. She knew how men looked at her. The Knight, then, was more than a man. He looked at her and she went blind. She saw nothing else, did nothing else, and breathed nothing else. She was his, and with his complete ownership of her, there was no need for anyone else to be in the picture. So Rosaria did as her master had commanded, and looked every passing man in the eyes, but never smiled or made any other gestures towards them. Even still, they stared and stared and stared. She had long ago become lost within her own thoughts. She forgot the pain, and the looks, and the regrets, everything except the Knight. Every time he looked at her with those divine, golden eyes, she felt another part of herself melt away. It was comforting, being able to let go of that which brought pain to her soul – but she found herself being replaced only with obedience and more pain, formless and full of void, but ever-present. ‘I never knew what peace felt like.’ A booming laugh echoing from the conference room, followed by a small round of applause and a loud voice that bounced about the hallway. Rosaria’s ears perked up and brought her out of her thoughts; that voice was familiar. It was that of her master, the blinding sun of her eyes. A shiver went down her spine, and Rosaria shifted the rifle in her hands into a threatening, alert position. The hallway in front of her was as empty as before. Footsteps and more laughter inched closer to the door she guarded. Abruptly the door opened, and the Knight in black held it open with a humble smile. The men and their guards walked out of the conference room with smiles as well, and Rosaria stood there, unmoving but watching. Before long they had assembled out in the hallway, the important-looking men in a small circle around her and the door and the guards standing behind them all. When the last man left the room, the Knight let the door close and stepped forward. He stood ahead of Rosaria and to the side, and as he adjusted his sunglasses, he turned back to look at his tool with a smile. She could see his bright eyes burning beneath the darkness of his shades for but a moment, and the silent look filled her with life and warmth. Even so, she shivered once again. A man she recognized stepped forward; Castion Immanuel, Revulcia of Galgria and overseer of the meeting that her master was aiding. He looked over at her and back to the Knight, and was the only one in the circle that frowned. “I see you continue to bring your concubine with you, Kaiser, and that now you have even armed her.” Her master chuckled and put his large, assuring hand on Rosaria’s shoulder. She did not flinch. “This is a woman very close to my heart,” the Knight said comfortably, “and she is more than capable to hold a weapon. Rest assured; your fate is secure with her at your back.” “Capable enough that you wish to draft her into our forces, though?” The Revulcia pursed his lips and looked Rosaria over. She met his eyes and saw that he was not looking at her lustfully – at least not entirely. ‘Surely he sees that I am worth nothing,’ she considered to herself. A man wearing a gray suit with a sky blue sash wrapped around his broad chest stepped forward to get a closer look at Rosaria. His skin was dark and his shaggy beard was darker, but he had no hair above his large, manicured eyebrows. ‘He looks at me and sees only meat,’ she knew instantly, though he gave off a diplomatic look. “She has no muscle on her, and no fat, either,” the barrel-chested man said. “She would be a poor soldier, and an even worse partner in the bed.” Laughter drifted out from behind the man, and a shorter yet equally thick man smiled. “I’m telling mother you’re looking at other women again.” The remark from the younger man – identical to his father in every way except height and facial decoration – earned him a hit on the chest from his father’s elbow. “Tundrag is right,” the Revulcia said as he tilted his head to the side. “I’ve never been one to shoot down your ideas, Kaiser, but I don’t think this girl would be a fit for our army. We need the best of the best – the elite – if we’re going to succeed at this.” The Knight smiled and crossed his arms. “You make a good point, my lord, of course. Come, come, walk with me. We have much to organize, and we can speak of this on the way.” Rosaria’s master waved forward, and the group of men reluctantly started off down the hallway. The Knight followed in the rear, and with a snap of his fingers he summoned Rosaria to follow. Neils Tundrag, the tall and bearded man, walked in front of his two sons. The father looked back at Rosaria with hungry eyes as the politicians and their entourage traversed the hallway of the discrete Galgrian fort, black and white checkerboard tile sounding off the impact of every man’s foot. “I’ll never truly understand you or your men, Revulcia,” he said with a shake of his head. “There is only so much you can do with small, slight girls.” “All girls are daughters, and I fight to regain mine. Remember that, and you will understand me.” Castion sighed, his shoulders moving expressly with his breathing. “Regain them you will, my lord,” the Knight disguised as Kaiser said wisely. “With the plan we have worked out, there is nothing to lose, and the world to gain.” “We have men to lose,” the eldest Tundrag hissed, “hundreds and thousands of men that could perish if we make a single wrong move. Your little soldier back there included.” Kaiser smiled and nodded without any visible scorn. “All is worth risking for true peace.” ‘Peace,’ Rosaria thought as the group exited the darkness of the hallway and entered a wide balcony overlooking the southern Prince Bay. Dark, camoflauged ships drifted through the equally dark waters, sailing from both the east and the west. ‘I wonder if any of them know of true peace.’ “As you can see,” the taller and thinner son of Neils Tundrag said, his shoulders warmed by a large sky blue scarf, “We have been very productive and proactive in setting up our forces. The Otnaki will be fully equipped and ready to move by tomorrow morning at the latest.” “The Inusians will be pleased, almost as much as I am,” the Revulcia said with a satisfied nod. Now that he was in the presence of his political allies, he was much more in control and reserved, though his eyes never lost that unsure, youthful glint within them. “We will be able to move immediately.” “Where do you think they will send us? The Inusians aren’t letting out any information on the current situation, not even to Elder Trizus, but spies everywhere are saying there’s battle on two fronts. Advance forces from Icarun are moving on Shorekeep, but most of the continental forces are preoccupied with Vainia’s advance.” Neils Tundrag was serious now, but he still kept glancing over at Rosaria. His eyes could not make her uncomfortable, nor could they make her see, so she paid them no mind. “We will be dispatched to Shorekeep, without a doubt,” the Revulcia answered. “Maebyss wouldn’t want us to see him losing to that girl. If it wasn’t an issue, they wouldn’t be controlling information at all.” “Losing?” Kaiser looked over to the man he served with a raised blond eyebrow. “You think the Mortisian girl will succeed, my lord?” Castion nodded. “She reminds me of my own nation’s struggle. After all this time, she still persists; such is the determination one needs to succeed in this world. And like our own jailers, we will support the revolution, and we will change the world. This time, for the better.” Kaiser nodded with satisfaction. “You are correct, as always.” Tundrag sighed, turning back and nodding at one of his guards. “You’re adamant over this girl fighting with us in Shorekeep, aren’t you, Kaiser?” The Knight turned his head away from Tundrag and smiled. “And if I am?” “You’re going to be disappointed. I’m not allowing my men to fight alongside a child, not when so much is at stake. We need all the guns we can take, and the one in her hand is wasted on her.” Her master nodded. “As if it would be better equipped in your own hands?” “Castion, handle your man,” the elder Otnaki man hissed, his nose snickering upwards with irritation. “He is beginning to irritate me. I don’t like to deal with snakes, especially those who think they can snap at bears.” “And which one of us is the bear? I see only a fiend, too wrapped up in his own scorn and hubris that he doesn’t know when he’s making a mistake he will regret for the rest of his life.” The Knight shrugged and crossed his arms over his chest. “However long it may be from now.” “Kaiser, what is wrong with you?!” The Revulcia turned about with a glare on his face, and his hand went flying to the side faster than his glare did. He slapped the Knight strongly across his face, sending his sunglasses through the air and his head to the side. “You’re forgetting your place!” Rosaria did not move. The Knight turned back around, the smile still on his face, and he looked right at the Revulcia with those golden, glowing eyes of his. The Galgrian man froze; he stood where he was, wordless, shocked. Next, the Knight looked over to Rosaria, and blinded her. Neils Tundrag pulled a knife from his guard, and walked two steps over to Rosaria, who still stood, blinded. “I will fix this foolishness myself!” he boomed; his knife swiftly cut through the warm Galgrian air, aiming at the warm chocolate of Rosaria’s exposed neck, almost singing with the speed of its stab. The metal met her neck, but it touched black skin like scales growing over her flesh; it shattered easily, like a wineglass falling down stories onto a concrete floor. The Otnaki patriarch recoiled backwards, looking at his broken dagger with a face that quickly started to turn fiery red. Suddenly alive, Rosaria turned around, looking up to the tenured man with blazing blind eyes of her own. ‘I will show you peace.’ She left him no time to speak, react, or move; her rifle flew upwards in her hand, her quick skinny fingers swiping off the safety and curling around the trigger, and she pulled it. A quick burst of bullets exploded into Tundrag’s huge chest, its girth gratefully accepting every shot. He faltered backwards, eyes threatening to bulge out of their sockets and blood escaping from his mouth, and like the tree trunk he resembled; he fell slowly, loudly, and decisively. The guards stood, stunned, for just a second, before pulling out firearms of their own. Rosaria felt the Knight watching her, filling her up as if he were inside her again, and she moved faster. Her arms guided the rifle on their own, and she shot down every man in a suit that aimed a weapon at her. The rifle ran out of bullets before she could gun down the sons of Neils Tundrag, but she threw it at the one that tried to flee and sent him sprawling to the ground. The Knight’s protégé stepped over two fallen guards, harvesting the pistols from their hands, and shot both Tundrag boys in the head and heart, two shots each. They fell, wordlessly, and she felt peace once again. The Revulcia screamed, and the man once known as Kaiser put his hands on the shorter man’s shoulders. Rosaria stood, shoulders drooping and pistols tightly gripped, and the both of them looked at the Revulcia intently with commanding golden eyes. “She’s really something else, isn’t she?” probed the Knight. “Tundrag! His sons! This is a disaster… the plans…” “…were already finalized,” the Knight cut in. “That’s why I had them drafted out and signed already, and that is why I made sure that everything was moving smoothly. It is too late for things to stop now. This is the reality of the peace you lived for.” “You… You…” The Revulcia dropped to his knees, hands shaking as he stared at the dead bodies all about him. Rosaria took a step closer to him, but was blind. “What have you done? Who are you, Kaiser? How could you do this?” Rosaria dropped one of her pistols on the ground and raised the other. The Knight laughed. “Do you understand now?” they both asked. ***** The Corps broke into their own castle without firing a single shot. The hardest part for the group, by far, was sitting and watching the defense of the Shorekeep soldiers be crushed. The soldiers had put up a good fight against the SSR army, and had it not been for the Inusian air support, the invasion of the city would likely have taken hours to occur. The Inusians were there, though, and between their artillery and the frontal assault from the Seventh Shorican Restoration, the seastone wall and the soldiers defending it crumbled within thirty minutes. The SSR chaotically ran over the destruction and corpses, rushing messily into the city and beginning to plunder it without any structure or discipline at all. The city would likely be raided, plundered, and torn asunder, Leader Rin had known as he watched, silent; all of it would happen because the SSR did not know what true liberation was. Though the SSR foot soldiers rushed into the city, slowly spreading out and not moving deeply inside yet, all but one of the Inusian airships started drifting north of the city, undoubtedly to stop and let out their soldiers onto the ground. The remaining ship started moving inward, to the city that once held music, peace, and the smell of the sea. As it moved, Rin started up the engine of the Corps’ truck and started to drive. He ruthlessly drove the truck into the city, running over corpses, small amounts of debris, and enemies alike. The Corps members inside the truck supported his efforts by shooting down anyone who shot at or impeded the truck that could not be trampled by its large all-terrain wheels. Once the truck had gotten past the throng of panicking citizens and confused SSR soldiers, Rin drove it into a side street and started navigating into the inner bowels of the city. Soon Shorekeep, or at least the immediate streets of it, became quiet. There were no cries of children, no music drifting down the streets, and not even the gentle ambiance of the ocean could be heard over the rumble of the truck’s engine. Off in the distance, the sounds of war echoed, but even these seemed oddly absent to the core. “It doesn’t seem like there’s anyone here,” Trius pointed out curiously. “How could they be so calmly locked up inside their houses?” “Most of the people were probably evacuated and kept inside the castle for their safety.” Rin frowned as he drove and kept his eyes forward. ‘That’s what I would have done, at least. It seems Wensteinvy knew exactly what I would have commanded.’ The original founders of the Corps, of which Wensty Wensteinvy had been a member of, where close through their months of struggle, training, and mourning. Rin could only hope that the newcomers in the truck with him would measure up to them. ‘I have no doubts on their training – but what of their fortitude?’ He knew that there would be casualties in their defense of Shorekeep. He only wished that they were prepared for that fact. “What about the people near the city limits?” Trius asked, turning around to look behind the truck, as if they were anywhere near close to the border of the city. “There were people still in their houses, being killed. Lots of them…” “The orders to evacuate might not have reached them,” Horn answered. “Or maybe the castle ran out of space.” Shinten Asuko yawned, but despite the apparent nonchalance, he spoke without his normal casual tone. The first thing Rin thought of was his sons. They were both fairly young adults, but adults nonetheless – and bound by Rin’s command that they absolutely not fight in Vainia’s army. With that he could be assured that they were not among the force crushed at the limits of the city, but it did not assure him that they were not in their home when the SSR swept past it. He could only hope they had been one of the lucky multitude that was able to evacuate to the castle. “Some lives must be lost,” Alma Venu added. She always sat so still, and it was impossible to see her eyes beneath her dark visor, so it was always surprising when she spoke after a long silence. Rin nodded lightly and gripped the steering wheel harder. ‘I’m being selfish,’ he knew; ‘These men are depending on me. Now’s not the time to think of my sons.’ He cleared his throat as he drove. “That even applies to us.” Silence choked the truck’s atmosphere once again. It held tightly over the entire Corps, with an oppressive totalitarian grip that did not relent until they arrived at the Seastone Castle. Tlerius Rin stopped the Corps’ faithful vehicle a few hundred feet away from the wall to the wide castle, and the soldiers shuffled out eagerly. Once they were all outside, Dolfh retrieved all of their cloaks from the back of the truck and handed them out. Uniformly the Corps attached their heavy silver garments over their slim khaki uniform, and Tlerius Rin put his own as well, with its exclusive fur collar. When everyone was properly armored – not only were the heavy cloaks warm in the winter, but they served as strong body armor - Rin led them into the castle’s courtyard. The gate to the Seastone Castle had been blown open, and two dead bodies of Shorican soldiers lay sprawled on the ground behind it. The Inusians had already entered, and were likely infiltrating even then. Rin looked up to the very top of the Seastone Castle, squinting his eyes to see in the bright daylight. ‘Good,’ he thought to himself succinctly when he saw that Vainia’s flag – an all-black variant of the elaborate Mortisian flag, flown adjacently to a sea-green Shorican one – still stood. ‘We’re not too late.’ As the Corps started to walk slowly towards the open castle doors, Rin pulled his long knife sharply out of its sheath, instantly gathering the Corps’ attention once more. They turned back to look at him and flexed their bodies to tense readiness, and Rin struggled to keep a proud smile off his wide face. “Listen to me, Corps; we are outnumbered, outgunned, and almost out of time.” He looked every soldier right in their eyes, and the only person who did not look mildly fearful was Moritaka Posmos – and Alma Venu, on principle. “I’ll be frank here: there is almost zero chance that no one will die in this mission.” Hard silence hit the empty, bloodied courtyard like a slap. Rin let the moment exist before moving past it, his words pregnant with meaning and power. “But we are the Eternal Corps. We are timeless. Even if only one of us walks away from this castle, as long as Queen Vainia’s flag never falls, we will have succeeded. Now we’re going to go in there and win this fight. We hold the throne and we hold this castle. Understand?” “Sir!” Their voices were a chorus of unison. Rin nodded. “Good. Come with me.” He took a single step forward, twirling his knife in his fingers as he did so. “Er, Leader Rin?” Dolfh Rveld raised his head with a contemplative frown. “We’re just going to go right in the front door?” “There aren’t many other entrances we can use,” Rin answered. “The safest ones would of course be the cliffside passage or the underground passage, but we have no ship to enter through the first and only the queen can get into the latter. We have no choice.” “We’ll be safe,” Moritaka said bluntly. “The SSR know we’re coming, but the Inusians probably don’t. That scout airship I shot down was on a different course than the other ships.” “I hear no life near the entrance,” Venu added with a slight nod. “Once we are inside, though, I do not think I will be able to hear any heartbeats.” A rack of gunfire went off from the second floor of the castle, and all of the Corps members gripped their weapons a bit tighter. “Especially not with such noise in the background.” “Time is running out,” Rin growled. “Onward, men! Follow me!” A quick barrage of sound echoed across the Seastone Castle’s courtyard as every Corps member slammed their fist on their chest. “For the Queen’s glory!” The inside of the castle was dark and dripping with punctuated moments of silence. The Corps moved cohesively amongst the wide corridors, black seastone pillars, and discarded bodies. Here and there was a Shorican soldier on the floor, drenched in their own blood; only the occasional Inusian bluecoat lay strewn about. Just by the proportion of casualties, it was clear to the Corps how the defense of the castle was going. However, no one saw a single Shorican civilian or refugee, in any corner of the castle at all. “The throne room,” Rin said with hard-squinted eyes as he and Moritaka inched up the massive stairs leading to the second floor. Behind the two followed the rest of the Corps in tight formation. They had managed to move without meeting the Inusian punitive force, but the gunshots in the castle were getting closer and closer with each step. “Omas and Wensteinvy must be holed up in the throne room, with the Barons and the civilians. It’s the easiest place for them to defend.” “Lady Vainia set traps in the throne room,” Moritaka muttered. “I noticed them when we first met her.” “What? That must have been months ago. We can’t count on those being even remotely useful. And besides, she’s halfway around the world right now.” Moritaka frowned. “I suppose.” “This should be simple, though,” Rin grunted. “If the Inusians are held outside the throne, we can rip them to shreds from behind. It sounds like there are a lot less soldiers than I predicted.” The blond nodded and raised his rocket launcher onto his shoulder. “I will eliminate them immediately.” “Are you crazy?!” the Leader hissed. “You can’t use that up here! You’ll blow open the throne room! What if someone is behind it?” “But this is the most efficient way to get rid of the Inusians…” “No. I forbid it.” Rin pulled out his long knife and pushed down Moritaka’s large weapon with the flat end of the blade. “Stand back and let the others handle them, with their rifles. No friendly fire here.” Moritaka sighed, but followed his Leader’s orders. Letting the rocket launcher rest on the floor, he instead pulled his sword from his back and sat on the edge of the large staircase, against the golden railing. Behind them, the Corps arrived, only a step below the two forerunners of the squad. “We’re close,” Rin said. “Weapons free.” A strong but subtle metal click erupted from the Corps as all members pulled forth short black knives, imitations of Rin’s and a staple of their uniform, and held them beneath their rifles. Rin nodded in satisfaction. “We blow the bluecoats apart, we secure the throne room, and we hold this castle. I don’t think I need to mention that we’re prioritizing the safety of the Barons. Everyone got that?” He received a curt nod from all in return, even from blind Alma Venu. Rin looked over to Moritaka with a face as serious as ever. “I want you to stay in the back, in case we’re ambushed. I’m trusting you with all our lives, son.” Moritaka Posmos looked his Leader in the face and, for once, knitted together his eyebrows in concern. “Yes… I understand.” “Good. If anything happens to me… you’re wearing the fur. Understand?” “…Yes sir.” Rin held his lips together and nodded once again. Without saying anything more to Posmos, he stood with his weapon raised and his chest out. “For the Queen’s glory!” On his command, the other five members of the Corps jumped up the remaining two steps, their weapons quickly blazing. A force of about thirty bluecoats stood near the tall wooden doors of the throne room, half of them facing the door and half of them guarding the windows to the floor. None of them expected to be ambushed from behind. On their initial shots, the Corps killed about nine soldiers; that left them at least twenty that were reeling for retaliation. As soon as they pulled off their initial maneuver, most of the Corps members ducked back down beneath the stairs and started to shoot from their sloped cover. Allen Trius did not duck down quick enough, and two pistol-magnitude bullets burst into his left shoulder. Screaming, he fell down a few steps, his bleeding arm flailing in the air until Moritaka grabbed onto it, saving the boy from further flight but only exacerbating his wound. Trius screamed more, and almost dropped his high powered rifle. “Shut up and get back to the fight!” yelled Leader Rin, who dropped his rifle beside him and started to shoot with dual pistols instead of reloading his main weapon. “Some bulletproof cloak this is!” moaned Trius. He cradled his shoulder with his free hand and looked over to Moritaka with fear in his eyes. “I can’t die here. Not like this. I still don’t know how my father died!” Posmos frowned and glanced over at Rin, who shot with both weapons akimbo. “I won’t let you die here,” the blond soldier said after a moment of thought. “Don’t worry.” Letting his sword rest on the stair railing, he reached behind Trius and grabbed onto the teen’s rifle slash sniper rifle. With weapon in hand he stood, snapping out of place the scope of the rifle and extending its barrel. From his spot at a low step, he could stand up straight and aim forward, and the barrel of his weapon lined up perfectly with the chests of the resisting Inusians, of which still stood at least eight. Moritaka took six shots and blew out the chests of six Inusians in quick succession. He did not aim through the weapon’s scope, nor did he even squint in order to fix his vision; he simply pointed the huge gun to the enemies and shot, and the bullets went exactly where he wanted. Not a single soldier he aimed for survived. In the same moments, the attacking Corps took care of the surviving Inusians. In less than a minute, the entire invading force were annihilated. Most of the Corps turned back to look at Moritaka with awe as he handed Trius the strong gun back and picked up his sword, but Rin slammed his knife onto the metal barrel of his weapon and took back their attention. “We don’t have time to be gawking. Get in that throne room and secure it! We don’t know how long we have until the rest of the bluecoats get here!” The urgings of their Leader motivated most of the Corps to move towards the bullet-ridden doors of the throne room, but Shinten Asuko and J. Horn hung back as Moritaka helped Trius up the stairs. “You saved his life,” Asuko muttered with wide eyes. For once, he did not look vaguely amused nor was he smirking. If anything, he looked shaken. “Allen almost died.” “You saved all of our lives,” Horn added. “I’ve never seen shooting like that.” “Of course I did.” Moritaka shrugged, Trius’ healthy arm around his neck as he pulled the teen up the stairs. “We’re family.” “Don’t come in!” yelled out a female voice from behind the battered doors. Rin and three Corps members paused from their penetrative position in front of the room. “Wensteinvy? Is that you?” Rin’s brow tightened in confusion and a loss for words. “What is your status in there? The coast is clear. We’ve finished off the bluecoats for now. Open the door!” “No!” The defiant voice of Wensty Wensteinvy rung clear, but seemed shaky and faltering. “I can’t. You have to get out of here!” A couple gasps erupted from behind the door, followed by hushed yet terrified screaming and moaning. “Please, my Leader!” “What is going on in there?!” Tlerius Rin kneed the door and started to jostle the handles of the massive wooden door, but it did not budge. “Wensteinvy, let us in! That’s an order! You have the civilians, damn it! Stop this!” “My Leader, please! You all have to escape, at least! The Barons have already fled the castle; find them, and flee!” “What?!” Rin paused for a moment, his nostrils flaring in frustration. He jerked his head backwards and waved at the Corps, sending most of them back from the throne room’s barred door. Only Dolfh Rveld and Alma Venu still stood near him, faces contorted in confusion. “Listen, Wensteinvy, we’re getting in there one way or another! The bluecoats won’t have this castle, and the Eternal Corps won’t leave any of its members behind!” He started to slam on the door, and with a nod from Rin the other two soldiers started to shoot at the fat hinges of the door. After a second or two, during which the other members looked on in morbid curiosity, the wooden door started to splinter, and it was clear that it would break within moments. “Please, don’t! My lord, don’t… Don’t come in! Please!” The wooden door exploded inward, fragments of mahogany shrapnel flying through the air, and the entire Corps could see the horrific scene that awaited them inside. Wensty Wensteinvy stood next to the door, tears carved down her cheeks and a rifle held in her trembling hands. A bloody gunshot wound penetrated her silver cloak around the stomach. Behind her lay the bodies of Cal Omas and about six people dressed in all black leather – the accepted uniform of spies working for Vainia’s Baronry of Intelligence. Guns were in their hands as well, or scattered about close enough to their bodies that it was clear they were holding them at the time of their death. All around them were more corpses, all scattered and ruined bodies of civilians who had been gunned down like slaughtered livestock, and behind them all stood Vainia’s shimmering magical throne. Behind the throne the doors to her balcony were open, and from the south end of its view, even from the foyer outside the room, a massive fleet of oncoming airships were visible. Tlerius Rin was stunned. The wind from the open balcony blew his cloak backwards, and his jaw went slack. “What in the eight heavens…?” “They turned on us,” Wensteinvy sobbed. “I had no choice but to kill them. But I couldn’t stop them from shooting out a flare, and now… Now…” She sniffed and bit her lip, her puffy red eyes threatening to spill over with tears. “I couldn’t save her. I couldn’t save any of them, after all.” The airships loomed, and the sound of their artillery winding up was clearly audible even in the throne room. “Run,” Moritaka exclaimed. He alone moved with life in his veins, and he started to push the Corps members until they started to move down the stairs. “We have to escape! Everyone, get out of here! Run, now! Regroup at the truck!” He urged the silver-cloaked soldiers with an uncharacteristically loud voice, with bass in his chest, and slapping those resistant members with his sheathed sword was even more effective. The entire Corps, minus Rin, Wensteinvy, and Posmos himself soon ran down the massive staircase leading to the first floor of the Seastone Castle, and the airships started to descend on the castle. Wensty Wensteinvy dropped to her knees, finally letting her rifle fall, and started to openly wail. “My sons,” Tlerius Rin muttered, his back still straight and unmoving. “I see my sons. They’re gone.” “No!” Moritaka yelled. “They aren’t gone. They’re still here! They’re going to come back and take this castle again, for the Queen’s glory!” Tlerius turned, a pitiful look of regret and pain on his gray-framed face, and looked right at Moritaka. “Take care of my sons for me, Posmos. I have to hold Vainia’s throne. You are in command now.” Moritaka shuddered, his chest aching and his eyes stinging, but he nodded. “Yes, Leader Rin. I’ll try living like this.” “Thank you,” the old Shorican man said with a rare smile. He turned back and started to walk into the death-decorated throne room. Wiping a tear from his cheek, Moritaka turned around and raced down the stairs as the invading airships opened fire on the chamber behind him. ‘I am timeless, now,’ he thought, as he tried not to hear the sound of bullets tearing through stone and flesh. ...End of Chapter Fifty. <- Previous Page | Main Page | Next Page->